The Damned
by GnarlieChaplin
Summary: The feel of a blade sliding into her enemy, the smell of the blood coating her skin. This was her calling, she belonged nowhere else. Rating for violence, gore, and in later chapters, smut.
1. Chapter 1 Meet Tank

"**I was once told, by someone whose name was not worth remembering, that writing all comes down to trying to live forever. Trying to immortalize yourself in your words, in the hope that some part of you will live on into the distant future.**

**It truly struck me today, that I am insignificant. I have accomplished nothing, and may never do so. My life on this earth is so mind-numbingly short that it baffles me as to why there should be significance in anything I do. I will probably not be here tomorrow, so who cares what I do today?**

**Well I do. I want to do something that people will talk about. That will change the way we think, we interact, or simply day-dream. **

**So I guess I'll tell a story, in the hope that one day I will be someone whose name is worth remembering."**

**-me**

**AN**

**Okay, this is my first Hellsing fic ever, and only my second fanfiction. So be gentle.**

**Also, when writing in third person I have a tendency to slip into first person, I do apologise.**

**ALSO – Re uploaded, fixed some spelling, added some dialogue, etc.**

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She had no smile as she marched up the long gravel path to the Hellsing mansion. She stomped forward, as she'd made a habit of doing, trying not to appear as nervous as she was.

Unbeknownst to her, she did not appear nervous. She looked angry, vicious. Which would not help her with her current situation; a job interview with Integra Hellsing.

She'd heard of the woman's iron fist, her unstoppable army, her unwavering loyalty to the crown, and she wanted in.

She was about halfway now, as she noticed the simple gardens. The large hedges that must be ages old. The garden was only shrubbery, without colour. Simple, showing a sophisticated beauty, she liked it.

She was a strong woman, not to be trifled with. She'd spent years in London's army, telling herself it was only until she sought after higher education, only to realise that she _really_ enjoyed it. She was usually a sniper, enjoying the calm before the kill, but still prospered tremendously in hand to hand combat. She relished the power of watching her enemy slowly slide to the ground, clutching at her as though she could save them. No, there wasn't a better career for her.

She reached the front doors, noticing that they were reinforced to protect the inhabitants from whatever threat may arise. She felt her heart rate rise, but rather than out of fear, it was excitement. She knocked without hesitation.

The door opened swiftly, as though someone was awaiting her arrival.

"Oh miss Whitehorn, Right on time." He had a monocle, she noticed with amusement. He was tall, too. She liked him, old people were rarely untrustworthy. He glanced behind her, looking for the retreating vehicle that she arrived in. He saw no such vehicle.

"Were you driven miss?" He asked politely.

"No." She answered frankly, though not intending any foul manner. She was simply stating a fact. The butler didn't wait for her to elaborate further. He smiled and motioned for her to enter.

"Very well, follow me miss, we can't keep Sir Integra waiting. My name is Walter, and if you have any questions, feel free to ask." She silently questioned the use of the term sir momentarily, before brushing it off.

The man led her down the large hallways of the mansion, showing the same taste as the garden. A large, red carpet, and a painting or two along the walls. But she wasn't sure she liked these.

They stopped at the doors to her office. It was time. Walter held no hesitation in opening the door, she guessed because she had an appointment.

"Sir Integra, Miss Whitehorn is here." The butler states.

"Very good, Walter, let her in." Her voice is deep and full of wisdom, and this does not go unnoticed by the girl.

She enters slowly, her angry demeanor slipping, showing the slightest hint of anxiousness. A small bead of sweat travels down her neck. She steps in front of the woman's desk, though she is not sitting there. She is standing at the window, staring outside, the light of the sunset making her shadow eerily tall along the floor.

"Thank you for coming, Miss Whitehorn, I understand this interview was quite a surprise."

"Yes ma'am." Integra was silent, ignoring the use of a common female title, waiting for the girl to elaborate. In most interviews, the subject of the occasion was eager to fill her ears with as much noise as possible. She supposed, this was a fresh perspective, or lack of.

"Do you wish for this occupation? I understand you were highly recommended, but I don't care about that." She turned to look the girl in the eye, and was met with quite a surprise.

The girl was tiny, to say the least. Integra knew that she herself was bias to such things, at an intimidating 5' 11", but this girl was truly astounding. She was probably 5'3", if she was lucky.

But that was not the only strange thing about her. She had some of the shortest hair she'd ever seen on a woman. It stuck up in oddly feminine flicks on the top of her head, and was an unnatural shade of copper. And then there were the things that were purposely unnatural, like the array of piercings on the girl. A nose ring, three lobe piercings( on each ear), and, some sort of odd spikes at the top of her ears. Integra could only imagine what other piercings the girl had that weren't visible.

Despite all of these extensive measures, this was not the most intimidating thing about the girl. It was her face, the natural scowl that contorted her features. Integra could tell that under all these features, there was a beautiful face, but years of hard labour in the army had hardened her features.

"I really want this job, ma'am." She stood up straighter, knowing she was under interrogation.

Integra could tell she wanted this job. The girl was wearing a pencil skirt and a blazer, complete with panty hose. The enemies of all self respecting women on earth, as Integra knew well. She couldn't help but notice that the girl couldn't resist a worn out, dirty pair of leather combat boots meant for the army, though. Integra decided she would like to keep this girl around for a while.

"What would you do to get this job?" She demanded fiercely.

"Kill, for it ma'am." This ma'am nonsense was starting to bother Integra.

"Kill who?"

"Whoever you tell me to." Integra was pleased. She may have to teach the girl the importance of saving the innocent, but she seemed very up to the job.

"Well I have a problem, private."

"What is it, ma'am?"

"Well, besides the fact that you mock my credentials by calling me _ma'am_," the girl pursed her lips in realising her fatal mistake. "You are far too qualified."

At this the girl looked up, with no attempt at hiding her confusion.

"But I'm only a private,ah, Sir." Integra smiled.

Yes, but I've your record here," The girl winced as Integra dropped the notably thick folder onto her desk.

"You're the perfect soldier for this organisation." The girl looked up, lacking the surprised grin Integra was sure she would receive.

"You are intelligent, ruthless, downright bloodthirsty, but still took care of the men in your squads, earning you a Military cross. I can imagine how hard that would be, though I can see from your records that you were sometimes the threat that the other privates needed rescuing from." Integra took another brief glance at the file, the girl was phenomenal.

"I can only imagine why you weren't promoted."

The girl gave a small smile at the memories. Integra was sure this girl would prove to be interesting.

"So what now, ma'am?" Integra gave her a hard glare, "Sir." She corrected quickly.

"well, I'll have no choice but to put you on my personal team." The girl scanned Integra's face, searching for any sign of a lie, there was none.

"You will be shown to your rooms by Walter, and will come to me in the morning, and I will brief you on The Hellsing organisations situation." She closed the file and looked the girl in the eye.

"Tonight?" The girl asked, confused.

"I'm not a woman to waste time, Miss Whitehorn. If you happen to be one, you will learn to curb that habit." She continued, "Yes. Tonight, miss Whitehorn.".

"Well, I need to get my things. I don't have much, but I would like my belongings."

"I'll have Walter send for your things in the morning." She sat at her desk, and steepled her fingers.

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Whitehorn, but the only chambers available are with the other troops, as we have no accommodations for women." The girl shrugged.

"S'fine ma'am, sir." The girl sewed the titles together as though they were intended to be so, and Integra was predicting that she would have to become used to the old title, as it seemed the girl couldn't let go.

"Very well, I'll try to find some different accommodations, but for the time being, it is settled."

"Walter." The knight called out, addressing the butler on the other side of the door. He emerged, with an expectant look on his face.

"Yes, Sir Integra?"

"Take Miss Whitehorn to her room in the barracks, and show her around the estate, as well." Walter nodded, before motioning for the girl to exit the room ahead of him.

"After you, miss." He said kindly. She did not like the way he said miss, like she was an innocent girl. She understood Integra's frustration.

"Oh, and miss Whitehorn, I imagine you'll have a preferred title, as opposed to your last name. I would call you by your first name, but it hardly seems to fit." The girl turned to face the knight.

"They used to call me Tank." Said the girl, dryly. Integra stared blankly. The girl had to be kidding.

"Very well, _Tank_," she did not like this name one bit, though she did not doubt its origins. "I shall see you in the morning, for that briefing I mentioned. Good night." The girl did not answer, but nodded herself, before swiftly exiting with Walter.

Integra watched the door shut behind them. She was reluctant to admit a feeling of excitement washing over her. She had never found a woman worth hiring, save for positions as maids. She was anxious to see how the girl would prove herself.

_My, my, my master, what have you done? _Came a voice in her head.

"Alucard, if you're going to grace me with your conversation, at least be present so I can glare at you for the length of it, you coward."

She heard a dark chuckle, before the beast himself slid through the wall. He slowly made his way in front of her desk. It was amazing how, even though he was towering above her, his hat seemed to keep his eyes out of sight.

"The Hellsing organisation is no place for a woman," Said Alucard, trying to aggravate her.

Integra Hellsing did not hesitate in pulling out her revolver and shooting him between the eyes. As he slowly healed and rose to his full height once more, he gave a deep laugh.

"but if she is anywhere as strong as you master, she will do well." He gave her a crooked, toothy grin.

"I have a feeling she may be stronger, Alucard." She picked up the fat folder in her gloved hand. "Much stronger, actually."

Alucard began gliding back to the shadows when Integra called,

"And Alucard? Stay away from her." with her hardest glare aimed directly at him. He simply grinned maniacally and chuckled as he sank into the shadows.

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**I have to admit, I'm not a very consistent updater, in fact, I'm terrible.**

**But, I consider myself a decent writer, and I think about this story EVERY NIGHT before I fall asleep, so I think if you stick around, we can make some magic. **

**And, just so you know, reviews make me go faster, and give you saucy-er chapters as well.**

**Snowflake124**

**Re-Uploading the chapters, making changes and improving my writing.**


	2. Chapter 2 Making Friends

**As you may have realized, I've re-uploaded the chapters.**

**The most changes occur in this chapter, so I suggest you give it a quick perusal to make sure you don't get confused later on.**

**Okay, enjoy.**

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The tour had been dull to her. Tank came to realize that the general layout was very simple, but the repetitive decoration scheme made directional comprehension difficult. It surprised her how many portraits of stuffy old men there were in the house.

She saw the firing range (impressive), the training grounds (adequate), the cafeteria (out of place), and last of all, the barracks. Sir Integra refused to have her in the rooms the men shared, and so she was placed in a room all her own. She would need to find some way to show Sir Integra that she wasn't to be treated differently.

"Here we are, miss." Said Walter, placing some pyjamas on the table. It had taken some effort, but he had convinced her to let him carry them there. Tank walked in after, hands in her jacket pockets.

She was pleased with the room: A small twin bed, a side table, and a larger round table in the centre (only one chair, she noticed), along with one dresser. It was clean, lacking personality. She liked it. She liked few things, but the Hellsing organisation seemed to be tailored just for her.

She turned to face butler, and nodded. "Thanks, Walt." She cast a glance toward the pyjamas. "See you tomorrow, I guess?"

"Indeed, miss Whitehorn, I shall see you bright and early." Walter made his polite exit, shutting the door behind him gently.

Tank cast a glance at the door, then jumped to action. She ripped off her jacket, yanked the skirt off and made quick work of the blouse. Lastly, the nylons. She stared down at them in disgust before tearing them off, balling them up in her hands, and throwing them to the ground. "Never again."

She put on the pyjamas, which were much larger and more comfortable.

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The night had been... unnerving. She couldn't help but feel as though someone was watching her. But she was used to being paranoid, and so she kept an eye on the door, and daydreamed of cleaning her gun until sleep couldn't be put off any longer.

And now it was morning, and she was marching down the hallway to Sir Integra's office, for the briefing, in a blouse and pyjama pants. But that wasn't really on her mind.

She hoped that it wouldn't take too long, higher ups had a habit of being redundant and long winded. If she was to go on a mission, she wanted brief instructions, not the life story of every casualty. Short and sweet, that's how she liked it.

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"Sir Integra, we have a problem." Said the butler from her office door.

"What is it Walter?" Said the knight with impatience.

"Well, as you know, I sent for miss Whitehorn's belongings, and, ah..." Sir Integra looked up from her paperwork to see possibly the largest dog she had ever seen sitting obediently beside Walter.

"Oh." She said wide eyed.

"Oh, indeed, Sir." Integra looked from the dog to the man, and back and forth again. She smiled in realization.

"That's why she asked for her things. I bet if she didn't have that dog to take care of, she wouldn't give a damn what happened to her belongings."

"I believe you're right, Sir." Walter pulled out a canvas military duffle bag from behind him and dropped it on the floor in front of him.

"Besides the dog, this is all that was there, nothing else. It's a shame really." Integra looked up at Walter. It was odd for him to comment on his opinion of someone's character. Walter approached, the dog lazily trudging behind him to unceremoniously plop down beside him again.

"Well, it seems so important to her, and she's going to have to get rid of it." The knight gave him a questioning glance before swiveling in her chair to face the window.

"And why would she have to get rid of the dog?"

"Well Sir, it certainly can't stay here, look at it..." and Integra did. She turned to face the beast again. It was tall, its head reaching Walter's waist. It was grey and had long shaggy fur, with white paws. The thing was panting up a storm, looking at Integra blankly. Seemingly harmless.

"Walter, we house a vampire, possibly the most deadly one on this earth. At least if this thing bites someone, the worst that could happen is rabies. And if this is her only pleasure, I have no problem allowing it." Walter looked uneasy, it was obvious he was not convinced this was the best plan. Integra took on a softer demeanor.

"Walter, I have my cigars," she began, "Alucard has his murderous rampages, the soldiers have their wild parties, and I know for a fact that you enjoy a nice 20 year old scotch on occasion." The corner of the butler's lips raised, beginning to understand her logic. Integra continued.

"If her vice is simply a dog, I'm quite content. Perhaps it is even useful."

"Very well, Sir."

"Orio! C'mere." They heard the gruff command from the doorway. Sir Integra hadn't heard Tank approaching whatsoever, and apparently neither had the dog. The monstrous hound bounded up to her with its tail wagging, tongue hanging out, ready to be loved. But the girl simply gave it a pat on the head and told it to sit, but he was okay with that.

"Oreo? Like the American biscuits?" Walter eyed the girl questioningly, the canines name out of character with the girl's personality.

"Orio, as in the constellation Orion." The dog was looking back and forth between the two people saying his name.

"The great hunter, I hope the name is a reflection of the dog's usefulness." Integra steepled her fingers. The dog gave a great yawn, ending in a loud whine.

She looked down at the dog. He stared up at her, still panting. "Hm." Tank huffed, and the dog ceased his panting, and raised his large black ears in question.

"When the situation calls for it." A small silence worked its way over the room. Integra shared a glance with Walter.

"I'm keeping the dog." She said with hard eyes. Integra kept her eyes on Walter,

"That settles it, then."

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"And that is how we defend the crown. And it is by these tactics that England has remained safe against the forces of destruction within our own world. The vampires, ghouls, and anything else that goes bump in the night." She finished dramatically.

Tank said nothing. Didnothing. No expression, nods, or even the sound of her breathing. Unknown to Integra, it was only because her speech had dragged on for over an hour.

_God that was long, how did I know that was going to turn out like that?_ Tank thought she heard a small chuckle in her mind, but came to the conclusion that it was her own.

"Kay."

"what?" Integra was perplexed. Never in all her years had she come across a soldier that, when confirmed of the existence of everything that was unholy, said "_kay._"

"S'okay, I get it. When is the first mission? I don't think I'll bring Orio on the first one."

"You don't have any questions?" Integra felt doubtful toward Tank's nonchalant approach toward the subject.

"No."

"Why not?" Integra was at a loss for words. She was used to denial, objections, even laughter, but the clam demeanor of the girl left her feeling... deflated.

"Well, because you've explained everything. Well, that and I've always 'sorta known that something was up with this place. I mean, it's pretty obvious."

Integra was stuck with her arms crossed, and a dumbfounded expression. The knight was so used to explaining the situation to stubborn police chiefs and the occasional grieving family that the complete and instant acceptance of the facts came as a surprise. The only reply she could come up with was "huh."

"Are we done now, Sir?" Integra pulled herself out of her stupor.

"Ah, yes. You are dismissed. But be ready for 21 hundred hours, we're on duty tonight."

"Yes, Sir."

"Now get out."

"Right away Sir."

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Tank took a moment to watch Orio as he investigated his new surroundings. He walked the perimeter of the room, sniffed under the table, sniffed the sheets on the bed, sniffed just about every square inch of the room before laying down under the table.

Tank tossed her duffel bag onto her bed and opened it. She pulled out the top layer of clothes, followed by two boxes of ammo for her 9mm she had brought with her. Another layer of clothing, and then her last gun was revealed. A 45 caliber 1911, oh how she adored this gun.

A pair of red eyes hid in the darkness, observing her, sizing her up.

She ran her hand down the slide, feeling the cool metal against her skin. She retracted the barrel and locked it in place, leaving the chamber exposed. She raised the gun to her face, breathing in the smell of gunpowder and lead. She sighed, relaxed.

The eyes soaked up her actions, loving every moment.

She placed the gun on the table, then returning to the bag, retrieved the magazines and bullets.

Alucard nearly purred with delight as she filled the magazines.

Tank chastised herself mentally, she had not even put her belongings away and she was playing with her toys. She smirked to herself and put the last magazine down. She returned to the bag, which by this time was only half emptied of weapons. Alucard watched as she dumped out the remaining contents of the bag onto the bed, losing her patience with taking her time. She picked up all the weapons, with great care, and placed them all on the table. She then began to put her clothes away.

Alucard took this time to look at the assortment of weapons on the table. He was amazed at the variety. Over his long life, (but mostly while serving the Hellsings) he had learned about a wide variety of weapons, and felt something akin to pride at recognizing her weapons. He took inventory.

The two handguns, Two Recon Tanto Knives, a Boker magnum Bowie knife, p001 Tactical folding knife, and a common butterfly knife. Along with a set of what Alucard remembered the troops calling 'brass knuckles', he thought them juvenile, and if he were to use them, redundant.

It was times like these he appreciated the non-regulated use of personal weapons within the Hellsing Organisation.

Alucard was content with his quiet observations, and took his leave.

Tank could feel the tension in her shoulders relax slightly, and decided she couldn't wait to leave for the mission.

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She was ready. She had her boots, her knives, guns, spare ammo, bulletproof vest, and even her old dog tags (and real pants). She was heading for the door when Orio tried following her. She looked to the door to make sure there was no one before giving in. She got down on her knees and gave the dog a big hug. She rubbed his shoulders, making him groan in delight.

"Take care of yourself, handsome." The dog sat down as she stood back up. "There's food and water over there, and I know you know how to take care of business in the bathroom. Take advantage of the alone time and clean your balls or something." The dog gave a small whine and laid down. "Exactly." She replied, as though it made perfect sense.

There was a voice from nowhere. '_All troops in squads A through E, report to the main firing range.'_

Tank recognised the voice as Walter's as she left her room. She could hear the other men opening their own doors behind her, on their way as well. She picked up the pace so she wouldn't be in the middle of them. Besides, she wanted to be there before hand, prove she wasn't going to hesitate or be weak.

"Hey pretty lady!" She ignored the comment and stomped ahead.

Sir Integra and Walter were waiting when she got there. She had managed to get some distance between her and the other men, but they had continued whistling and cat calling. Now that the boss was in view, all were silent. But covered snickers could be heard. _Fucking assholes_. She thought to herself. The troops were beginning to fill the room, it seemed everyone was there.

"Tank." Sir Integra addressed her. She strode towards her when...

"Pff haha. Tank? She's a fucking shrimp." It was the man from before. Tank whipped around and grabbed the repulsive mans collar, surprising him. She pulled her gun up to his face.

"Got something to say to me?" He simply whimpered. The room was dead silent. She let go of his shirt, but didn't lower her gun. She pulled out her bowie knife from its strap on her thigh and held it to his gut.

"Don't talk to me, ever." The man looked from her to Sir Integra, who looked very calm, and was doing nothing to stop the girl.

She shoved him away. He stumbled, but regained his balance.

"Crazy bitch..." She heard from around the room.

"Gentlemen," sir Integra began with her booming voice. " this is Tank Whitehorn, our newest member of the _family_. She is a superior to you all and I expect you show her respect, as I have no objections as to how she obtains it." The Sea of men had a ripple of whispers and doubts run through it.

"She is on my personal Fireteam, but for tonight she will work beside you in a platoon." She crossed her arms "Any questions or complaints should be quickly forgotten." She turned to Walter, who opened an overhead screen with a map on it.

"We are going to a hotel tonight boys. Two chipped FREAKs checked in and worked their way out from the inside, leaving nothing dead. The area is overrun with ghouls, and it's your job to take them out, as always." The men were attentive, the girl noticed. None were phased by the nature of the mission. This helped quell any lasting regrets from her earlier meeting with Sir Hellsing.

"We are unsure of the location of the vampires, but if they are spotted, shoot to kill."

Integra went on to explain the strategy, the teams, the time frame, and any other minute details that would be essential to the mission.

"Are you ready men?"

"Sir, yes Sir!"

They left through large doors towards the back entrance, where armored cars were waiting to bring them to the hotel in question.

"Tank." Integra addressed her once again.

"Yes Sir?" She asked quickly, anxious to get on the cars.

"You'll need these." The knight handed her ten magazines full of silver bullets. Tank felt her heart pump harder at the thought of using all ten of them.

"And this is essential too." She was also handed a silver cross on a chain. Less exciting, but mandatory nonetheless.

"If you run out of ammo, don't hesitate to take some off the men, I'm confident we'll have some casualties, and dead men don't need ammo. Now get out there."

"Sir yes Sir!"

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**Re-re-vamped chapter (hahahaha vamped -_-) **

**Review, ( If you wouldn't mind, I mean, if you have the time, please and thank you. *whimper*)**

**Snowflake124**


	3. Chapter 3 Passion

**Let's hear it for sort of quick updates! Ya hoo! **

**So shortly after I published the first chapter, I kept thinking about what Tank's earrings would be, and I really liked the idea of the spikes on her upper ear, so I actually got them! :P maybe I'll put a picture on deviant art or something, and let you guys see exactly what her ears would look like. **

**Also, I've never written conflict or physical fights before, so tell me how I did!**

**ALSO- **

**Silent mental thoughts- **_**italic, la la la **_

**Projected mental conversations (Alucard talking into heads) – "**_**italics with quotations, la la la!"**_

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The ride to the hotel had been rough in more ways than one. Not only had the terrain caused for sore bodies, but the atmosphere had been tense. As there had been so many troops on this mission, space within the vehicles had become limited, making for a cramped ride as well as a bumpy one. The claustrophobic environment had forced the men to be in close proximity with Tank, something none of them were hoping for. Fate seemed to be on those men's side, though, as Tank was silent the entire ride. Some men had begun to believe she was scared. Clutching her dog tags, eyes closed, mouthing something the men thought to be a prayer, as she began rocking back and forth.

Tank could feel herself begin to sweat, the droplets running down her back before being absorbed by the cotton of her shirt. She clutched her dog tags and closed her eyes. She listened to the whir of the tires, the quiet mumbling of the men. She felt the bumps in the road that had previously had her tags jumping about, she smelt the summer air, and felt her heartbeat slow.

It had been months since she had been on a mission, not since she had returned from Afghanistan. She mumbled a thanks to her superiors for getting this job. She obviously wasn't ready to rejoin the normal world quite yet, not when the promise of emptying a few magazines sent her body into tremors of excitement. She gave a soft rock back and forth, hoping to 'cool off'. She knew that a giddy soldier made foolish mistakes.

And so it went on like this until they arrived.

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"Alucard." The knight addressed sternly.

"Yes master." He replied sensually, purposely pushing her buttons.

"See if you can infiltrate the top floor and take out the two FREAKs. If I know my vampires, they'll be lounging about the penthouse like kings." Her eyebrows lowered, her cigar crunching from her teeth grinding into it.

"Try and leave the ghouls, I want to make my men work for their money." She lit a second cigar and turned her chair away, silently dismissing him. Wordlessly, he turned, his coat billowing behind him as he used the door to exit.

Within her mind, Integra heard a voice clear as day,

"_Yes, Master."_

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Tank heard the squeak of the brakes that every large vehicle seemed to have, and knew they had arrived. She filed out with the other men and made her way to the group that was forming at the edge of the field overlooking the resort. Walter had accompanied the squads and was giving them final instructions before they began their mission.

Through the curtain of trees hiding them, she looked down the small hill to the borders of the hotel. She could see the swirling lights of police cars, and yellow tape closing off the main paths to the resort.

"Now, gentlemen, before we begin," He unrolled a rather large sheet of paper, and adjusted his monocle. "The Hotel doubles as a resort, and is thankfully only five floors high. It served a distinct calibre of the wealthy, a summer getaway with thick walls to keep them from the world. As a result, its outdoor area will be even harder to empty than the inside. That's why both squads D and E will remain on the grounds and bottom floor, hunting down every ghoul in every square inch of land. Be it indoor gym, tennis courts, or salon." At this, the men chuckled. Tank waited to hear the instructions for squad A, she may be new, but she refused to work in a lower level squad. This was her first mission and she was eager to prove herself, as well as see if the vampires were all they were cracked up to be.

"Squads A, B and C will move up to the second floor through the stairs. Only Squad C will remain though. They shall wipe out any creatures on that floor, clearing every room, while Squads A and B move up another floor. B shall clear the third floor, while Squad A moves on to the Fourth. If any survivors are found at this time, secure a room and keep them all together. And finally," Walter lowered the diagram of the building. "We suspect that the FREAKs will be on the fifth floor, the penthouse suite."

Tank, and a few other soldiers, gave a scoff at this. Walter noticed and tank could see the amusement in his eyes.

"Squad A will parole the fourth floor and wait for squads B and C to arrive before taking on the fifth floor, understand?" The men gave a unanimous, silent nod, smart enough to keep quiet in the night.

"The police are waiting for us, and have secured a secret entry into the facility. Squads D and E," Two groups of men, presumably the squads, stood straighter and gave a salute. "Move Out!"

Tank watched as the men took the hill by storm, dodging the trees and sliding down to meet the men of the law.

Tank took this time to approach Walter, "Where is Squad A?" She demanded without any intended impatience or harsh tones in her voice.

"Why Miss Whitehorn, they are right over there, but if you wish not to work with them, you are most welcome to go with squad B." The girl turned to examine the group. She scanned over the twenty men and found the reason for Walter's doubts. Among them was the man she had 'assaulted' back at the mansion. She looked him up and down. He seemed capable enough, and Tank made her decision. "Don't worry old man; I can take care of myself." She made her way over to the squad, set on working with them. She stopped in front of them, and waited.

The men didn't take notice of her right away, but she didn't blame them too much, many soldiers were moving about, getting ready for the fight.

She let out a rough cough, and it caught their attention. They turned to face her, and she could tell they were nervous. The man she had had the scuffle with by far was the worst. He first appeared surprised, then agitated.

"What do you want?" He spat. Tank tried to contain her irritation as she replied.

"I'll be fighting with you guys, squad A right?" A few men nodded. "Great, then I suggest you get used to my presence." She moved forward to join them. As she passed the insufferable man, he gave a small growl. She returned it with an icy glare.

"Woah, Jake, lay off, she's just a girl." _Jake, his name was Jake. Of course it was, guys named Jake were always asshats. And so was this guy, saying she was just a girl_. She shoved past them both, going to compare weapons with the men.

She supposed the mission wouldn't be as fun as she had previously believed.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Alucard licked the viscous liquid from his fingertips, relishing the taste. Though freak blood was bitter and nothing like a human's, it was a great improvement to the donor blood bags he usually received. The heat from the fresh kill was always superior to the chilled plasma offered to him by the Hellsing organisation.

He took a look around him. In his animalistic bloodlust, he never really took the time to observe his surroundings. This time, though, he was impressed with himself.

There was blood everywhere, even more so than usual. He knew the suite would practically have to be torn down and re-built. It was pooled on the ground, sprayed across the walls, smeared across the counters, tracked everywhere by many footprints, it was like a fine work of art.

He chuckled to himself, and gave a deep purr from deep inside his chest. He fixed his gaze on the corpses spread out across the room. An arm here, a liver there, lying about like the decor. Oh what a mess he had made.

He gathered up the largest pieces, mainly the torsos, and dumped them into the bathtub. The claw foot monstrosity began to pool with what little blood was left in the limbs and cavities.

He returned to the main room of the penthouse, and cast his shadows about, leaving the room in complete darkness. He took a seat on a chesterfield that seemed to be almost blood-free, and waited.

This mission was a test for the girl, so Integra had said, and he was going to make sure she was worth her salt.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Squad A, B and C, it's your turn! Move out!" Commanded Walter, motioning in the same direction the others had left. "C, go! B, next, A follow behind."

Tank watched as C made its way down the hill. Her heartbeat was rising, the sweat starting to roll down her back again. She gave her dog tags one last squeeze before tucking them under her shirt.

The men began their approach. They slid down the muddy hill, which was wet with dew. Tank could hear some troops clicking the magazines into their weapons. She was ready, so ready, to return to battle.

She could see the large fence surrounding the resort ahead. It was ten feet high, with barbed wire. _Ridiculous_, she thought, _no matter how rich your clients are, you don't need a fence like that. If they didn't have such a stupid fence, I bet some of them could have run away. _

Two police officers ushered them under the thick metal onto the premises. Tank stuck close to her group, noticing they didn't stop to regroup, or re-confirm their numbers before approaching the building. _Good, they're not lollygaggers. _

She heard a moan. Her gaze shot to the direction of the noise. There, not twenty feet away, was a ghoul. It's body was round, swollen after death, though the scruffy old man the ghoul once was could be seen through the bloated face. Its sallow skin hung off in sheets, left over from cuts, gashes and the killing blow. Tank could even make out a deep, mouth shaped wound on its neck. Rather than teeth marks, though, the whole chunk had been ripped from his body. She shuddered at the thought of this poor man's death.

"Well hey there, sunshine, come out to play?" Cooed one of the soldiers sarcastically, as he approached the ghoul. He then took a solid stance and raised his firearm. He took two shots, the second hitting the ghoul in the forehead. It fell with a thump onto the ground. Tank gave a growl,

"I thought we were supposed to be quiet?" she whisper-yelled at him. She noticed, without excitement, that it was the man fate seemed to want her to talk to.

"Yeah, until we gotta shoot one." A few men chuckled. She grumbled and stomped ahead. Not five minutes later, another ghoul showed up. This time a young woman, with even more wear and tear. Whoever had turned her to the side of the undead had had fun doing it. One of the men was making his way over when Tank rushed ahead of him. She took out one both of her recon tanto knives, one in each hand, and ran at the beast. She slammed one of the knives into the top of the monster's head, and slit it's throat with the other, effectively taking it down. Blood spurted onto her vest and arms.

The beast sunk to the ground, lifeless. Tank waited for her squad to catch up.

"Good god, you're a freak." Tank glared at him,

"Thanks." And lead them further.

"I am not doing that, she's nuts."

"Dude, Jake, it's cool, you don't have to, just shoot 'em."

"You will NOT shoot them, you will be quiet, we're attempting an element of surprise!" _ What an asshat._

"Fine, then you fight them off, girly." He glared at her. She wiped her brain-covered knife off on her vest.

"Oh I will."

It went on like that for the next half hour, while they made their way slowly to the building. She stalked ahead of the group, none of them knowing she had killed anything until they stumbled upon it. The bodies where only getting more and more gruesome. An old lady decapitated, a teenager with his eyes stabbed out and his head damn near sliced in half, it was becoming clear she was just as much a monster as what they were fighting.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Alucard watched her. He followed her endlessly as she ruthlessly slayed each undead she came across. The only humans he could compare her to were Sir Integra and... his old self.

His chest rumbled, and he found his voice, laughing maniacally into the empty room.

He would very soon become impatient, if the mission took too long. He wanted her there now, he wanted his source of entertainment.

Soon, soon, he would look into the eyes of the warrior girl, and make her scream.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Tank got the hotel before the men, regrouping with the rest. It became obvious to her that not many of the men, if any at all, had shared her commitment to keeping quiet. Most of the men were still clean, with nothing on them. A few had a splatter of blood here and there from shooting ghouls, but Tank, she was saturated. Her clothes had taken on a dark red, her hands were sticky, her hair was laying on her head, and she could feel the liquid beginning to pool in her boots.

The men stared at her in horror. She approached casually and took a seat on a lawn chair. The girl yanked an old rag out from behind the vest and wiped off her face, as the beads of blood were about to drip into her eyes and mouth. Then she wiped of her knives, knowing that they would be covered again soon. She put the handkerchief back, taking out another pair of socks. The men were watching her every move. She unlaced her boots, changed her blood-soaked socks, and tied the clunky shoes back up in record time. She wrung the socks out onto the cement, extracting a few drops before stuffing them carelessly into her pockets. Her squad then arrived, observing along with the other men. Lastly, Tank leaned over and squeezed the goop out of her hair. Because she was so short, when the blood spurted out of the jugulars, it tended to get all over her head. She wrung out what little hair she had, letting it drip all over the ground. She felt something in her hair. She picked it out and examined it. It was sizable chunk of grey matter. She tossed it onto the ground in the small puddle of blood. One of the soldiers gagged loudly.

"Oh, Jesus Christ you freak, that's enough." Said Jake, from her squad. She looked up and noticed all the men staring at her. The man who had gagged was bent over, facing away from the group. He gave a moan and a gurgle, but managed to say,

"I bet that's why her hair is so red..." The group turned to her again, giving her a look of disgust. She gave a hearty chuckle and slid the barrel of her gun, preparing the first round.

"Let's get this party started, guys!" She boasted, with a big grin.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

**Okay, so I have a huge project presentation tomorrow, and I'm working on this.**

**So I've decided to finish it here, is six pages enough for you people? For now, it will have to be. **


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